


Light My Way

by WaywardAF67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dean/Cas Reverse Bang, Human Castiel, M/M, Seriously the angst doesn't last long, Wing Kink, near death experiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 06:17:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14970863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaywardAF67/pseuds/WaywardAF67
Summary: Dean and Castiel have finally retired from hunting. Sam still mans the bunker, while Cas and Dean live in a little house on the outskirts of town. Cas gave up his grace and lives as a human until one chance encounter changes everything.





	Light My Way

**Author's Note:**

> I was so happy to step in as a pinch hitter for [Humongouscandycoffee](https://humongouscandycoffee.tumblr.com/) I was late to this challenge and didn't claim a piece of art fast enough. The coolest thing is this bit of art was in my top 5 choices. What are the chances? 
> 
> Please head over to tumblr and tell humongouscandycoffee how great their art it. It’s beautiful and they are beyond talented. 
> 
> [Check out the Art Masterpost here](https://humongouscandycoffee.tumblr.com/private/174972899773/tumblr_pagttrMZ9c1um6x17)
> 
>  
> 
> As always a huge thank you to EllenOfOZ, TrenchCoatBaby, CBFirestarter, and waywardjenn for all your edits and most importantly your support and friendship. 
> 
>  
> 
>  

Being retired isn’t everything Dean thought it was going to be. He expected nothing but a simple life. The problem was a simple life was boring.

When he and Cas had settled down in their own place, things had become easy. A type of ease that would have made him scared before. But instead of waiting for the other shoe to drop, Dean enjoyed what he had while he could. As the man who held the record for most deaths survived, he didn’t take small moments lightly. It was a change he made around the time he and Cas started dating seriously.

From the beginning of their relationship, Cas and Dean promised that—given how volatile their relationship had been pre-dating—they would never withhold important things, and never ever lie to each other. So as they were getting ready for bed one evening, when Cas poured out two Ambien into his palm, Dean didn’t hold back his disgust.

“What?” Cas barked.

Dean didn’t think his body language had been that obvious, but he had felt a headache forming from how hard he was scowling.

“Nothing,” he said, throwing back the covers on his side of the bed.

“Yes, of course, it’s ‘nothing.’ That’s why you are glaring at me with balled up fists.” Cas downed the pills and guzzled from the glass of water he always kept on his night stand.

Dean lay in bed silently, looking between the bottle of sleeping pills and Cas. His brows knitted together.

“Are we really going to do this tonight, Dean?” Cas asked as he crawled into bed, making sure to stay as close to the edge as possible. Given that Cas was a horrific cuddler, this let Dean know that yes, they were in fact, doing this tonight.

“If you already know what’s wrong, why do I need to tell you?” Dean mumbled, as he too climbed into bed.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the promise you made to me that you wouldn’t keep this shit from me anymore. Probably because lies and half-truths have almost made us kill each other. I’m just spitballing here, Dean.”

Dean huffed, feeling too tired to fight with Cas. “Jesus, you are dramatic. I’m not keeping anything from you. I just don’t want you to turn in to some junkie pill head. That’s not really a lot to ask, is it?”

“Get out,” Cas growled.

“What?” Dean turned to Cas with wide eyes.

“I said get out. You have it in your head that I’m going to turn into the version of myself you saw when Zachariah showed you the future. That’s not me, Dean. And I’m sick of you not believing that I have control, or trusting that I would come to you if I felt like I was slipping. So, as I said, get out.”

“I don’t know, if you have so much control then why have you been taking so many sleeping pills?”

He and Cas never went to bed mad, it was part of their stupid agreement, but Cas wasn’t hearing anything he had to say. Dean tried to tell him that because he worried, that it didn’t mean he didn’t trust him. But Cas yelled at him to leave him alone. He took Dean’s pillow and threw it across the bedroom.

Later, as he tossed and turned on the couch, Dean almost wanted to laugh. If he weren’t so miserable, he would have. He hoped that when they made up in the morning, that he could joke with Cas about how dramatic he was being. After he apologized for being a jerk, of course.

It had been a long road to happiness for both of them. After the second biblical apocalypse had been averted, they’d rebuilt a network of hunters under the Men of Letters banner with Ketch’s help. With each group work regionally, hunting had become an easier process for everyone.

Cas had stuck around after things calmed down and dedicated his life to staying on earth. After helping repair Heaven, Cas was given the choice of returning home or staying with the Winchesters. Castiel had said it had never been a choice for him, Sam and Dean were his home. But Heaven required Cas to give up his grace if he chose to stay. Castiel agreed, without hesitation, but Dean wouldn’t have it. The hunter told Heaven to shove it, Cas was an angel, and they weren’t going to take that from him. Several hours of deliberation led to Cas agreeing to remove his grace, but he was allowed to keep it with him. It was an agreement even Dean was okay with. The one condition was that if Cas ever took in his extracted grace, for whatever reason, he had to remain an angel.

At first Cas wore his grace around his neck, never wanting to be too far from it, but as time went on, he had told Dean that he was ready to let go of that part of himself. As much as he hated to admit it, Metatron carving out a book to hide his grace was a great idea. To be funny, Cas had found a hardback copy of the fourth installment of the series by Carver Edlund. Specifically, the book where Dean was saved by the angel Castiel. It had made Cas laugh so hard that Dean played up his annoyed expression, just to see his friend so happy.

After he’d become human, Dean had coddled Castiel. He hadn’t been there the last time Cas was human, so he tried hard to make up for it. He cooked for Cas, made sure he was always warm and clean. He bought Cas nice clothes and taught him about alcohol tolerance. It was when Castiel became interested in dating, that things got tricky between them. Cas wanted intimacy beyond what Dean had been giving him. A few hugs and lingering touches were nice, but Cas said he was ready for more.

That was when Dean learned he was jealous of Cas seeing someone else. It was also when he learned that Cas had a preference for men. It took Dean several months of seeing Cas go out on casual dates and come home early in the morning before he’d finally asked Cas out on a proper date. They’d fumbled through the first few outings. There was stilted conversation, an awkward hug, and once Dean spilled an entire scoop of ice cream down the front of his shirt.

Dean gave in and finally asked Sam for advice. It was the single most humiliating conversation of his life. Sam teased him endlessly, but ultimately gave him the help he needed. _Stop trying so hard. Just keep doing what you’ve always been doing, and let the other stuff come naturally._

And here they were, a year later, living together in a house just down the road from the bunker that they had spent months renovating, Cas’ grace tucked in its book and on display in the built-in bookshelves across the room from where Dean now lay.

It was getting hot, but Dean was too lazy to get up and adjust the thermostat, so he pulled his shirt and sweatpants off, tossing them on the floor next to the couch. He was grumpy and just wanted to go back to their room. Cas was probably so gone on his sleeping pills that he wouldn’t even notice Dean getting into bed. That reminded Dean why he was sleeping on the couch in the first place and he rolled to his side, punching the pillow to get comfortable.

The wind picked up to a mild howl, and he heard rain beating against the window. There was a branch scraping the kitchen window, and he wondered if he needed to put some sort of protection up against the oncoming weather. The forecast called for rain and severe thunderstorms. Normally, he would love a night like this. He slept a lot deeper than he used to, but thunder always woke him up. Sam used to be scared of storms, and anytime he heard the ominous clapping sound he would crawl into bed with Dean.

Thunder rumbled deep and loud. The kind the vibrates your chest. The lightning flashed illuminating the entire living room. Dean thought, for a moment, he saw something in the yard standing next to the tree. His hunter instincts wouldn’t let him sleep until he got up and checked.

Dean pulled his gun from the stand by the front door and switched on the outside light. He could smell the rain on the earth as he stepped out on the small front porch. He couldn’t see far with just the glow of the low light near their front steps. He made a mental note to add floodlights first thing tomorrow. Dean jumped as the thunder cracked overhead. It was so much louder outside of the house. The sky lit up with flashes of electricity dancing as far as he could see. He took the opportunity to scan the front yard. As soon as the lightning passed, he noticed he was in total darkness. Dean, not having seen anything in the yard, went to check the bulb of the porch light.

When he stepped back into the house to flip the switch, he noticed an eerie quietness. The kind of quiet that only comes from no electricity. There was no hum of the refrigerator running, or buzz of electronics running in the background.

He walked to the kitchen to check the fuse box, hoping it was just a thrown breaker. He was not surprised to learn the storm caused the power outage. There was nothing he could do until morning, knowing the power company wasn't going to come out in a storm for such a rural location. So he threw himself down on the couch, trying once again to get comfortable.

It was two hours later when decided he was going back to bed. He had cooled off and realized that Cas was right. Just because he took sleeping pills every once in awhile didn’t mean he was going to turn into the stoner of 2014. It wasn’t like he didn’t get drunk in the middle of the night when the nightmares got to be too much. He was being too hard on Cas and needed to let him make his own decisions. The guy had seen some shit, so it would make sense he wanted a respite from the nightmares.

Dean grabbed his pillow, groaning at his aching muscles. When he was hunting regularly, it was easy to cope with the pain. There was a job to do, so you pushed through. Since he retired, he was embarrassed about how little he could tolerate pain. He rolled his ankle when they first looked at the house, and he was laid up for a week. Most of that was because Cas wouldn’t let him out of bed, and not for the fun reasons, but it still hurt like a bitch.

Pillow in hand, Dean made his way towards the staircase when he heard the front door creak open. He figured he didn't close it all the way after checking the yard, and the wind had blown it open. He didn't even have time to turn around when he heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot and a burning sensation in his left shoulder.

Before he had time to process what happened to his arm, he jumped forward, tackling the figure at the front door. Dean landed on what was clearly a tall man and scrambled to pin him down. The pain in his arm was screaming, and he struggled to keep the intruder from moving. They scuffled back and forth, but eventually, Dean got him on the ground. He shoved his knee into the guy's chest and wrapped his right hand around the other man's neck squeezing as hard as he could. The invader was clawing at Dean's arm, but the hunter didn't let go, even as blood dripped down his bicep.

Dean tried to bring his left arm forward, wanting a tighter grip on the guy. It was only then he realized he couldn't move his left arm at all. He hadn't fully realized he had been shot, or that his shoulder was now immobile.

His focus broke for a moment as he looked at the injury, giving the other man enough time to knock Dean off. Dean fell to his side but quickly staggered to his feet. The man was coming at him, knife in hand. Dean punched him in the jaw, knocking the tall man to the floor again.

The intruder leaned up against the couch, trying to steady himself. Dean dropped to his knees, getting in a good punch before the guy brought his leg up and kicked Dean off of him. The hunter landed on his side and thought, hysterically, had he not been shot, he wouldn't have any problem taking this guy out.

Dean heard the slow thud of footsteps and wondered if the intruder could hear Cas as well. Dean had been fighting for his life and was taking a second to breath when he saw Cas creeping down the stairs in his periphery.

The other man must have noticed Dean’s second break in concentration and took the opportunity to plunge the knife into Dean’s side. He had forgotten to get the knife from him when the invader fell to the ground.

The hunter cried out, causing Cas to shout out his name. The guy stabbed Dean two more times in the left side, slashing the back of his left arm before making a run for the door.

Cas leaped down the remaining stairs and ran through the front door after Dean’s attacker. He tried to call out to Cas to just let the guy go. He needed to get to a hospital and didn’t feel like he had much time. He could feel the blood pouring out...

Dean was light-headed and could already see spots of black around the edges of his vision. He giggled at the difference between the darkness of the room and the utter lack of color encroaching on his sight. He idly wondered if he would see Cas again before he bled out on their living room floor. It was such a waste, Cas had paid way too much for this rug to have it ruined by blood stains.

Dean heard several gunshots and prayed to Chuck that it wasn’t Cas.

_Chuck, you son of a bitch, you can let me die, but you better not let Cas. He’s too good for this shit. Chuck, God, please take care of him._

Dean heard someone shouting his name, and for a brief moment thought Chuck was answering him. But then the most beautiful face he’d ever seen leaned over him.

“Heya, Cas,” Dean slurred.

Cas sat down, pulling Dean into his arms. There was blood all over the floor, covering Cas as he held Dean close. Even if Cas could still fly, Dean probably wouldn’t survive the amount of blood loss.

“After all this shit, a burglar is what got me? That’s stupid,” Dean tried to joke. He couldn’t stand the look of horror on Castiel’s face.

“Please Dean, don’t talk. I just need a minute.” Cas rubbed his blood-soaked hand through Dean’s hair.

“It’s okay, Cas. I’ll be with you up there. Surely they’ll let me keep my memories of you.” Dean leaned into Cas’ chest. It was getting hard for him to keep his head up.

“There is just one memory I wish I could take with me. I should have married you, Cas. I wish I could have relived our wedding every day in heaven.” Dean coughed, struggling to breathe.

“Dammit Dean, you don’t get to propose to me before you die. You dumb son of a bitch. Why didn’t you just stay in bed?" Cas' voice broke. "Why was this the one fucking fight we didn’t fix  before sleeping?” Tears were dripping down Cas' face, landing on Dean's forehead. He wanted to reach up and wipe the tears away, but his right arm was pinned between him and Cas, and he still couldn’t move his left even when he tried.

“I’m sorry Cas, I’m sorry you gave up your grace for this.” Dean let out a long rattling breath.

“My grace...Dean, you’re a genius.” Cas looked down noticing Dean was hardly breathing. “Hang on, baby. Just hold on.”

 

***

 

Cas laid Dean down gently and stumbled to the bookshelf, cursing himself for chasing the intruder instead of going straight to Dean. It never crossed his mind that Dean had been the one who was shot. The hunter had survived forty plus years facing life’s worst nightmares. After seeing how quickly the man was getting away, Cas’ brain caught up that it had to have been Dean that was shot. He still wasn’t the best at using a gun, but he fired two shots, and the guy went down.

It had been so long since he placed the book containing his grace on the shelf, that he didn’t remember which one it was. Dean had rearranged all his favorites to the top shelf, and Cas wasn’t sure exactly where it was. It was so dark in the room that he couldn’t see the titles on the spines. If Dean survived this, they were going to put street lamps outside. He never wanted it to be this dark again.

Castiel had hoped that if he touched the correct book, his grace would call out to him, but he had no such luck as he ran both hands across several volumes. When that didn’t work, he started pulling the books off the shelf one by one, frantically dropping them on the ground when he opened them up, finding the pages fully intact.

It felt like he had been digging through books for an hour. Each failed attempt, one step closer to Dean’s death. He finally pulled out one that vibrated in his hands. This was it. His grace was in this book. Castiel could feel it as much as see the light peeking out of the edges. He fumbled, pulling the cover back and breathed a sigh of relief as the light of his divine essence filled the room from it’s spot nestled in the cutout pages.

He dropped the hardback on the stack of discarded books before running back to Dean. Cas tripped over the rug and landed next to Dean’s feet. He crawled through the blood and sat on his knees next to the hunter's face, the light casting shadows over Dean’s face. His grace looked so bright in the dark room, giving Dean an almost angelic glow.

Castel’s hands shook as he uncapped the vile. If he did this, there was no going back. He was going to be an angel again. He didn’t know if that meant he would have to leave Dean. He didn’t know if Heaven would try and force him to go back, but he would fight it. He and Dean had beaten worse odds. Anything was worth the risk to stop Dean from bleeding out.

Cas brought the small vile close to his mouth and breathed in. His heart was racing, and he wondered if this would be the last time he would feel this way. If he was stuck being an angel, he had no use for a heartbeat.

Blue and white wisps of light swirled through the room, making everything hazy. As Cas consumed his connection to heaven, he felt the grace wrapping itself around every cell in his body. The comforting cool tingle pumping through his veins. He had forgotten how much he missed the sensation.

As the grace worked its way through the angel’s system, he felt a burning in his chest. It wasn’t something he remembered ever experiencing. It worried him that maybe a developed soul would reject the grace and he had wasted too much time to save Dean the human way. The thought didn’t last long as he suddenly felt like he was ready to burst. There was a pressure in his head and a tingle along his spine.

He remembered what Anna looked like after getting her grace back, and blindly reached out for a throw pillow to cover Dean’s eyes. Castiel was scared to touch Dean as his grace anchored itself into his body. He feared the raw energy would burn Dean’s skin the way it had when he pulled him from hell.

The burning in his chest spread out through his body, replacing the familiar cool tingle. Cas was scared. Nothing was feeling the way it should. His head hurt too much, and he felt like the skin on his back was melting off.

Castiel was about to call out to heaven, begging them to save Dean while his grace slowly killed him. But he got distracted by a loud crack of thunder. A lustrous artic blue light shone from his eyes, and he felt his wings manifest behind him.

The itching on his back stopped, and his head was starting to clear. Castiel didn’t know how much time had passed, but it had been too long. He wasn’t sure he could save Dean if he was already gone.

Cas knocked the pillow off Dean’s face and pulled his limp body into his lap. He brought his lips down to Dean’s, pressing hard against his mouth. The angel closed his eyes and focused all his grace on healing the hunter. He felt Dean’s slow beating heart and knew he was moments away from death. He pushed harder, looking for anything to grasp onto.

When a person was this close to dying their soul was usually greeted by a reaper. Cas swore if Billie showed up right now, he would kill her again.

His heart leaped with joy when he found a tiny spark of Dean’s soul lingering. Still holding his mouth to Dean’s, he rushed all his grace to the small flicker. Castiel’s grace wrapped around the red tint of Dean’s soul and nurtured it.

Healing small wounds usually took just a touch of grace—like causing bones to heal, swelling to go down, or cell regeneration. To bring someone back from the brink of death took a lot more. Cas was doing all he could to keep Dean’s soul from leaving his body while working his grace through Dean’s heart. Making sure it kept the remaining blood flowing. There was so much to do, Cas didn't know if his grace was strong enough to heal Dean's wounds, regenerate his soul, and build-up enough blood before Dean was gone forever.

His wings twitched, and Cas remembered that they were whole. He had only caught a glimpse of them, but they were fluffy and gleaming. When his grace had been extracted, his wings were almost baren. Feathers that were molting and falling out. His restored wings let Cas know that his grace had fully regenerated. It wasn’t something he expected, assuming it would need a host to revive itself.

With the remainder of his fully intact grace, Cas let himself calm. Dean wasn’t dead, and at full capacity, he shouldn’t have a problem helping the hunter's body recover. He pulled back from Dean’s lips and placed both hands on his cheeks, making sure to keep in contact with the other man’s soul.

Cas looked around the room and noticed it was almost fully illuminated, the light pouring off him. He pulled his wings forward to inspect them and smiled, spreading them out and stretching them as if they were fingers.

He was busy watching his feathers twitch and move, when Dean gasped, sucking in a large breath. Cas’ eyes instantly shot to the hunter. “Dean?”

 

 

Dean was coughing and gasping, trying to pull air into his lungs as fast as possible. While Dean came to himself, Cas looked him over. All his wounds were closed, and the bleeding had stopped. He didn’t want Dean to see the pool of clotted blood they had been laying in. He placed his hand on the ground, and instantly the mess was gone.

Dean sagged against the angel’s chest, still panting. “Cas, why are you glowing?” he asked.

Cas couldn’t help but laugh. He was on the border of hysterics and Dean’s silly question pushed him over. The truth was, he didn’t know why he was glowing, but it didn’t matter. Dean was alive. He couldn’t help but lean into Dean and kiss him gently. He kept the kiss light and chaste, not wanting Dean to lose any more breath.

Working on reflex, he pulled his wings forward, wrapping them around Dean and himself. He wanted to run his wings all over the other man’s body, but held back, giving Dean time to adjust to what had just happened.

Dean lay against Cas, struggling to breathe. The angel healed him of all physical wounds, but Dean would probably still remember what it felt like having the life drain out of his body.

“Cas, is this heaven?” Dean murmured.

“No, sweetheart. This is our living room. You’re going to be fine, Dean.”  Cas stroked the other man’s arm with his wing.

The touch made Dean startle, and he scampered back. “Your wing?” he asked, confusion painting his face.

“Yes. They are my wings.” Cas was shaking his head, inching closer to Dean. “If I didn’t take in my grace Dean, you would have died. I couldn’t let you die. But we’ll figure this out. I won’t leave you to go back to heaven,” Cas babbled.

“Hey. Hey. Hey. Calm down Cas. I’m not mad.” Dean crawled forward, closing the space he had put between them. “I’m just shocked. They’re purple.”

Cas turned his head, looking back at his fully restored wings. They had been damaged for so long, before his extraction. He never imagined he would see them again. He smiled and flexed forward, resting the soft feathers against Dean’s face.

“Did you expect them to be a different color?” Cas asked.

Dean reached up, running his fingers through the vibrant purple feathers resting on his cheek. “I guess I thought they would be white. Or maybe black. They’re beautiful.”

Dean reached forward, running his hands along the underside of the appendage. Brushing his fingers over downy, soft feathers. Cas couldn’t hold back, and let out a long groan, leaning into Dean.

“Does it feel good?” Dean asked, working a palm closer to Cas’ body.

Castiel couldn’t find words to answer Dean, so he nodded his confirmation. Of course it felt good. Dean was touching him in his most intimate place.

“Does it feel like I’m playing with your hair?” Dean fingers were digging into his secondary feathers and Cas whimpered, shaking his head.

The hunter’s breath hitched, catching on to what his ministrations were doing to Cas. Dean rose to his knees and crawled into the angel’s lap. Cas bucked his hips, pushing his cock into his boyfriend’s hip, showing him just how different this was than playing with each other’s hair.

Dean pushed himself down harder on Cas’ lap, trying to give him a small amount of friction. “This turn you on?” he purred into Cas’ ear.

Cas growled, pulling and lifting Dean close to him as he stood.

“Fuck, Cas, that’s so hot,” Dean said, wrapping his legs around his boyfriend's waist.

“Stop talking,” Cas said, pressing his mouth against Dean’s.

The angel knew Dean never liked flying before, but Cas needed him laid out on their bed as quick as possible. With a quick flutter of wings Cas was standing next to their bed holding a naked Dean.

“Before you complain, I am capable of curing any constipation problems you have––”

“Oh my god, Cas.” Dean threw his head back and laughed. “I think that’s the most unsexy thing I’ve ever heard.”

Castiel ducked his head and mumbled an apology. Dean was on him instantly, shushing him while pressing kisses into his neck.

“It’s okay, baby.” Dean kissed down his throat, and brought his hand up to pinch Cas’ nipple. “Let me make you feel good. Lay on your stomach,” Dean directed.

Cas slowly crawled on the bed, laying his head at the foot of the mattress so he could spread his wings without hitting anything. He had never been more grateful for their overly large master bedroom.

His glow seemed to be fading, giving the room a cool blue shine, with just enough light to make out the shapes in the dark. His body was thrumming with a warm energy he wasn’t used to. His grace seemed to be cooling as his glow faded.

Cas felt the bed dip next to him and a light touch across his shoulder. Soon he felt Dean’s thighs settle over his hips. Dean adjusted himself, so he was resting on the back of Cas’ legs, with his hard cock sitting in the cleft of the angel’s ass.

Dean leaned forward placing a kiss between Cas’ wings dragging his hand across the silky purple feathers. He started with small gentle strokes, quickly moving on to digging his fingers into the feathers.  

Cas whimpered and pushed his ass back into Dean’s dick when he felt a brush across his preening gland. “Aaah,” he moaned loudly.

“What was that?” Dean asked, rubbing over the smooth spot again.

Castiel hissed before shuddering. “Pr-Preening gland.”

“Like how birds keep their feathers shiny?” Dean kept massaging the gland with his thumb, while his other hand rubbed down Cas’ back.

“Is this like the prostate of your wings?” Dean pushed a little harder, causing oil to coat his hand.

Cas didn’t respond, only rocked back and forth, switching between pushing his ass into Dean and rubbing his cock against the mattress.

“Fuck Cas, this feels like lube. Please tell me I can use this to fuck you.” Dean gripped the feathers tight, anchoring himself enough to slide his dick through Cas’ cheeks. Both men moaned at the increased friction.

“Yes, use the oil to fuck me, Dean.” The wing Dean wasn’t milking began to flap wildly.

“Can you come from this?” Dean teased, scraping a nail gently across the glad.

“Fuck, yes. But not yet. Want you to fuck me.” Cas fucked into the mattress.

Dean pulled back, running his slick fingers over Cas’ hole. The angel shivered and sighed as if Dean touching him so intimately was all he had been waiting for.

Dean circled his finger not adding much pressure, teasing around Cas’ rim. He went back to the preening gland, coating his fingers liberally.

Cas jerked and writhed underneath the hunter as he worked over the most sensitive part of his wings.

“Please, Dean. I’m so close,” Cas begged.

Dean chuckled darkly, “I haven’t even started yet, babe.”

“I can relax my muscles. Just fuck me.” Cas’ wings puffed up and started twitching.

Dean scooted back further down Cas’ legs and set to work opening up the angel. Cas was panting and doing his best to hold still. Dean was pushing his limits of teasing, and he was on the edge as the other man’s fingers slid in and out, loosening him up.

Dean reached up, capturing more oil before slicking his own cock. Cas whimpered as he lay unmoved, except for the involuntary twitch of his wings.

Pushing into Cas slowly, Dean whispered, “Come on baby, let go.”

Dean pulled back and thrust into Cas gently, who was grateful because he was so overwhelmed with sensation that he felt like he might lose consciousness.

Dean rocked into Cas gradually, picking up the pace before he went back to rubbing Cas’ preening gland. The feathers around his fingers rippled, and his wings beat wildly.

“Harder, Dean,” Cas cried out gripping the sheets.

Dean snapped his hips forward as hard as he could and doubled the pressure on the gland, oil leaking down the feathers.

Cas’ body convulsed as he grunted out Dean’s name, cum spilling between him and the comforter.

Dean held on to Cas’ quivering appendages as he spilled his release into the angel, whining out his name.

He thrusted into Cas one last time before collapsing onto the other man’s back, gasping for air.

Cas shimmed his body, trying to shrug Dean off. “Dean––” he whispered “––let me up.” Dean grunted and mumbled something unintelligible into Cas’ back. The angel considered flying away, Dean still attached to his back, but he knew he was going to be in trouble for earlier flight.

Dean eventually relented and rolled off Cas’ back, sprawling across the bed. Cas sent a bolt of grace through his own body, cleaning himself of the mess they made. He rolled to his side and pressed a kiss to Dean’s shoulder cleaning him the same way.  

Cas draped his wing over Dean’s still naked form. The worry of having his grace was beginning  to take over his mind.

“Dean, we need to talk,” Cas said.

“Don’t, Cas. I almost died less than an hour ago.” Dean snuggled deeper into the downy feathers.

“I know. But we need a plan. What if Naomi tries to make me come back?” Cas leaned up on one elbow.

“No need to worry about that, Castiel.” Naomi appeared next to their bed. She was wearing her old grey suit, her blonde hair spiked in different directions. She stared at the men with her arms behind her back, her expression stoic.

“Jesus,” Dean squeaked, pulling Cas’ wing tighter around him. “Ever heard of knocking?”

“I think I gave you more than an adequate amount of time, Dean. I could have shown up...in flagrante delicto.” Naomi stood, back straight and head held high.

“In fla––what?” Dean asked, flabbergasted.

Cas shuffled himself and Dean around, pulling the soiled comforter over their bottom halves. “Naomi, please get to the point. I am required to return to heaven?”

“You knew the rules, Castiel. If you took in your grace, you are to stay an angel. Our numbers are low, and we need every angel we can get.”

“That’s bullshit,” Dean huffed, full of naked righteous indignation.

“This does not concern you, human.” Naomi stepped forward, challenging either man to stand up to her.

Dean tried to scramble out of the bed, but Cas grabbed him before he could reach for the angel blade they kept in the night stand.

“If I kill her, she can’t take you back.” Dean stared at Cas, eyes wide and shining with unshed tears.

“Calm your pet, Castiel. I’m not here to take you back to heaven.”

“You’re not?” both men echoed.

“No, but I have a condition.” Naomi raised her hand, at Cas’ intake of breath. “Just listen before you interrupt. You’re not required to return to heaven, but we have work for you on earth. If you complete these missions, you are welcome to stay here.”

“No,” Dean demanded.

“That’s fine, Naomi,” Cas said.

Dean’s head jerked to face his boyfriend, “What are you doing, Cas? You don’t work for those assclowns.”

Cas rested his hand on Dean’s cheek, and stroked lovingly. “I want this, love. Heaven was my home for a very long time. I am happy to do this. Honestly, I missed being an angel.”

Dean blinked several times, “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Because being with you was more important.” Cas leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on Dean’s brow. “I’ll pick you every time, Dean. Without hesitation, but if I can have both? I couldn’t ask for more.”

Dean nodded and bowed his head as he leaned into Cas’ shoulder.

“Are we all in agreement?” Naomi asked, standing in the same spot she had been in the whole time.

“Yes,” Cas responded. Leaving Dean to glare at Naomi.

“Good, I will be in touch soon. It’s good to have you back on our side, Castiel.” Naomi disappeared as quickly as she came.

“Fuck. I hate that you always have to follow their stupid rules.” Dean threw back the covers.

“Come now, Dean. When have I ever followed their rules?” Cas chuckled and pulled Dean into a deep kiss.

“Now, let’s talk about that proposal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hello on Tumblr


End file.
